


Nefelibata

by ivykit626



Category: Original Work
Genre: Elves, F/M, one character belongs to me, the other belongs to my bestie, two elves deeply in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 06:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivykit626/pseuds/ivykit626
Summary: Fenwen watched her paint, unable to look away. She was so beautiful, it was like she contained all the beauty in the world. Why would he look at anything else, when she was right there?





	Nefelibata

Fen calls her a nefelibata; a cloud walker, as he watches her _create_ , his gaze caught on **her** , rather than her art.  
When she tilts her head, flicking a gaze over her shoulder at him in question, barely pausing in her wild, arcing strokes of the brush, he laughs. She loves his laugh. She loves it _when_ he laughs, his whole body moving with his joy. His eyes are full of life, twinkling like sunlight filtered through the waves, as he met her gaze again.  
“I _meant_ the literal meaning of the word, Flower.” Fenwen said around a grin, his eyes tracing the sure movements of her hands, as she transported the remembered vibrancy of the fae playing in the early morning sunlight onto her canvas.  
“Oh?” She hummed, reaching up to brush some of her long, currently moss-green, hair away from her face. Fen’s grin softened at the edges, as he caught sight of the fresh smear of purple paint on her cheek, as she flicked her head in another attempt to shift her hair over her shoulder.  
“As in, someone who lives in the clouds of their imagination.” Fen explained, pulling his feet up onto the window bench, and leaning his head against the window frame. “Although, if also works in a more _literal_ sense, since you can, in fact, fly.”  
Shaelanna snorts, pulling her hand back as she spun to look at her Heart, just _barely_ avoiding smearing purple paint across the width of her canvas. “Fen!”  
“Yes, Love?”  
“You are such a dork.” She says around another laugh, her wings twitching in her amusement, knocking over a can of ‘ocean bottom blue’. “Oops.”  
“Another sacrifice to the ever-evolving masterpiece that is your floor.” Fenwen says, keen eyes tracking the spread of the free-flowing paint.


End file.
